Phoenix and Dragon
by KeepCalmLoveSeverus
Summary: Some things change during a war, and some stay the same. Hermione may change more AFTER than anyone expects. Pureblood!Hermione, Dramione, EWE
1. Chapter 1

"Oi, Granger, wait up!"

Hermione turned away from the lake at the sound of a familiar voice, and watched a panting Theodore Nott jog up. Smiling, she teased, "I think you need more exercise, Theo. Shagging Blaise obviously isn't enough."

Refusing to rise to her bait, as always, Theo just sniffed haughtily and replied, "I've been trying to convince him to add a third, but he's playing at being a prude." Knowing she was blushing and had lost yet another battle of wits, Hermione opened her mouth to change the subject, only to be cut off. "But never mind that. You skipped breakfast, which means you missed post. The Ministry sent you something - as did the Greengrass matriarch."

She shrugged at the veiled criticism of her skiving off meals; after all, until the castle's renovations were complete, none of them were technically students, a fact she took great delight in exploiting. It just hurt too much to be ignored by Ginny, who thought it was her fault Harry had hared off to parts unknown, and scowled at by Ron, who felt she was a traitor for befriending the few Slytherins returning for eighth year. Harry would have understood; the war had matured him, and he'd defended their Slytherin year mates from the persecution of the Wizengamot before going traveling to 'find' himself. Unfortunately, last she'd heard, he was planning to settle in Romania for a bit, learning about dragons from Charlie.

Shrugging off her darkening thoughts, she held out her hand to accept the two envelopes, a small frown creasing her brow. "The Ministry is most likely requesting my presence at yet another award ceremony," she mused. "I don't know why they keep asking. After the first Howler I sent them, one would think they'd learn their lesson."

She turned the second, thicker envelope over in her hands, missing Theo's uncharacteristic impatience as she directed all of her attention to the ornate script embossed on the front. "You would tell me if I'd committed some sort of dreadful faux pas against Daphne in the last week or so, right?" she asked him suddenly, not looking up. "Because that's the only reason I can think of for her mother to be writing me." Many of the old families may have publicly denounced their rigid Pureblood tenets at the end of the war, but that newfound tolerance didn't tend to extend to taking tea with Wizarding Britain's most famous Muggleborn. Nor did they tend to communicate with her.

Clearing his throat, Theo said, "I don't think that's it, Hermione."

Something in his voice caught her attention, and her head snapped up, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring in an expression eerily reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall. "You know something," she accused.

"I have approximate knowledge of manythings," he hedged. Relenting, he rubbed the back of his neck - his nervous tell, Hermione had figured out some time ago. "About this, though? Only rumours. It's not anything bad, I assure you. At least not in our circles." He raised one shoulder carelessly. "I don't know how you'll take it." Upon further consideration, that wasn't as reassuring as he'd meant it to be, so he huffed out, "Just open the damn envelope, Granger." Crossing his arms, Theo dropped to the ground next to her with what was probably meant to be a 'devil may care' attitude (after checking that the grass wasn't wet).

She rolled her eyes at his antics, tugging the envelope open gingerly. Her previous experiences with unsolicited Wizarding post had most often resulted in hands covered in some noxious fluid or other, so she felt her caution well justified. Even if Madame Greengrass seemed far too high class for such petty retaliations.

Thankfully, the contents of the envelope were simply sheafs of heavy parchment - all expensive, and all of them cream except for the last, which was a dusky grey. That discrepancy piqued her interest, but common sense told her the letter would be most likely to hold an explanation, so she folded the cream sheets open first.

Theo watched with growing nervous anticipation as Hermione's eyes flew over the letter. By the time she'd reached the end, he was biting his lip, and when she turned to him with wide eyes, he held his breath. He knewwhat that grey parchment meant.

Having expected either outraged indignation or downright refusal, Theo was surprised when her voice held only honest confusion.

"Madame Greengrass wants to adopt me?"


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't understand," she repeated for the third time.

"Granger," Theo sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's not a difficult concept. If Madame Greengrass adopts you, by all rights you become a pureblood, with all the privileges - and drawbacks - that entails. It's one of the few Blood Rites the Ministry still endorses." There were only so many different ways he could say the same thing; though he understood her confusion, he was frustrated that she was allowing it to cloud her usually rational thought processes.

Not replying, she fell silent and turned her face towards the water. It was early enough in the day that mist was still rising off the surface; Theo thought it looked peaceful, but didn't dare to presume she would think the same. After a few minutes, he heard a muffled sniffle, and had a moment's panic before allowing his nicer manners to take over; he quietly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He may not have understood why she was crying, but he knew better than to ask. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him.

Finally, she took a deep, shuddering breath, and when she spoke, her voice was oddly flat and detached. "I Obliviated my parents at the end of my sixth year and sent them to Australia. When Kingsley found out, he offered to send an Obliviator to check on them, see if we could reverse it..." Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, unable to continue.

This was all news to Theodore, and while he couldn't say it wasn't clever, he also understood what precisely she was telling him. She had, essentially, orphaned herself.

"You can't reverse mind magic on Muggles. I don't know why they wouldn't tell you, instead of getting your hopes up."

Her entire body tensed up and her breathing became suspiciously even; peeking at her face from the corner of his eye didn't tell him anything, as her hair had fallen in a wall around her face. "Is that one of those bits of magic lore that everyone is simply expected to know?" Theo was smart enough to feel the dangerous bite underlying the words, and even if he hadn't been, the sparking in her hair would have been hard to miss.

He shook his head quickly, telling her, "No, it's really more of a history lesson, passed down the older families." He would have expected a Shacklebolt to know it. "Back in the days when Muggle-baiting was just another sport, certain individuals thought it entertaining to Obliviated Muggles and replace their memories with absurdities. I believe one French victim became quite famous... Joan of Arc, I think."

She shuffled her shoulders in tacit acknowledgement. She was interested in the history for its own merit, but at the same time, thinking about her parents after a summer filled with attempts to forget what she had done to them was tearing her up inside.

"Anyway, there were other people who didn't believe sending defenseless Muggles insane was sporting and tried to reverse the spell damage, only to discover they couldn't. When I was growing up, it was taught as an admonishment not to get caught; I'm sure a family like the Shacklebolts would have taught it as a lesson against hubris."

"Putting aside the feelings I have that accepting this offer would be an even bigger betrayal of my parents, what do you think I should do?" she finally asked. To anyone who hadn't been at Hogwarts for the last few months, her faith in a Slytherin's opinion would have seemed absurd; she knew, however, that Theo would tell her both the positives and negatives of the arrangement without trying to skew it in his favor. After all, he was already the Head of the Nott Family, and since he had no interest in her as a marriage prospect, he had no real reason to attempt to unduly sway her one way or the other.

"Perhaps," he began slowly, mind rapidly turning over all the different angles. "As a member of the Greengrass Family, you would be a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. As biased as the author of that particular directory was - and trust me, I would know, his portrait is obnoxious - it still carries weight in polite society today. You would most definitely have more political clout than a Muggleborn witch, even the Muggleborn brains behind the Dark Lord's fall. You do want to go into politics, if I'm remembering properly?" The question was practically rhetorical; he knew she would, even if it was only long enough to crusade for the betterment of those she considered downtrodden before moving on to something more intellectually rewarding. "The downsides to accepting, of course, depend entirely upon the wording of the adoption contract itself, so let's see it."

Hermione looked at him blankly for a moment, then her lips parted in a silent 'oh' of realisation and she unfolded the last, grey sheet of parchment before passing it over. Clever as she may be, she trusted a pureblood raised to political doublespeak over her own admittedly limited knowledge of legalese. Especially since most of it probably didn't apply in the Wizarding world.

He didn't take nearly as long to read the elegant script as she expected; in fact, he seemed just as bewildered as her. "This was the only page?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Bloody hell, Granger. Mister Greengrass would break himself out of Azkaban if he ever laid eyes on this contract. If I didn't know Madame Greengrass was a Ravenclaw, I would accuse her of being a particularly dim Hufflepuff; the benefits to her hinge entirely upon you wanting to make a name for yourself, independent of Scarhead. You could accept this contract and then practically vanish into obscurity with quite a large fortune."

As much as she appreciated Theo's candor, Hermione wanted to know what had shaken him so much. "Yes, but what does it say? You know I don't weigh things the same way as a Slytherin."

He nodded and elaborated, "Madame Greengrass is offering you a sizable dowry, but hasn't stipulated that she be allowed to arrange a marriage for you... In fact, the only thing she wants you to do for her is attend university at Cambridge on hergalleon! This is absurd!"

His voice had risen several octaves, until his voice was even higher than hers, but that just served to strike home exactlyhow odd the entire proposal was. "Do you think she's counting on my honest nature to change the contract more favourably for her?"

He shrugged weakly, the whites of his eyes showing brilliantly against his tanned skin. "I don't think so. She wants you to rebrand the Greengrass legacy. This would be a public, irreversible step away from everything her husband made the Name stand for; so long as you were seen with them, using the Name positively, the Greengrass Family would regain social standing. It would make Astoria and Daphne more attractive for marriage as well - some of the old families that wouldn't deal with Mister Greengrass' politics would become amenable to offering contracts."

Hermione snorted once, then fell backwards with raucous laughter; it broke the solemn mood, and as he was used to her odd sense of humor, Theo simply waited patiently for her to calm down and explain the joke. When she did, he laughed just as loudly.

"Do you think Pansy could convince her father to offer for Daphne if I accepted this contract?"

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Reviews and constructive criticism both welcome and requested!


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This has not been beta'd. If anyone is looking to waste time betaing for a high-strung, unreliable writer, hit me up! Or even Alpha reading. Cheerleading. Something.**

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It wasn't something anyone talked about, the unlikely couples that had sprung up over the summer. Hermione, if asked, would have credited them to the public decline of militant pureblood dogma. Theo would have bluntly said it was because they were all less frightened of their parents - after all, his own father was locked up in Azkaban, making Theo the Head of his Family, and his mother had been dead since before he could even walk. Pansy's father had never been a Marked follower, just a quiet supporter, but she'd blossomed after a summer away from his thinly veiled threats and heavy expectations; still, her relationship with Daphne had taken even her by surprise - Daphne had shed every attitude espoused by her father with fervent glee, and had become the opposite of everything he had ever wanted by being quite the outspoken young witch. This had included his attitudes on continuation of the Greengrass name, and she had come out of the closet and snogged Pansy all within the same twenty minutes; Pansy, who was bold as well but slightly less daring, hadn't objected, but she hadn't begun actively participating until Hermione had shown her some old charms that allowed two women to produce a child of their line without a male donor. (Magic still amazed Hermione on a daily basis; she didn't think she'd ever stop loving learning new things.) The two of them were a good match, as far as Hermione could tell - at the very least, they hadn't had any explosive fights in the Great Hall yet, which was more than she could say for herself and Ronald.

"Theo?" she asked after they'd both been quiet for some time. He hummed in response, and she continued, "If I do this, will you still treat me the same?"

He quirked his head at her. "Yes, of course. Why on earth wouldn't I?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, hollowing it out with her own nervous tic. "It's just... You've made it sound like I'm going to turn into a completely different person practically overnight. That leads me to believe people will treat me differently, too."

"Well, I suppose those who didn't already know you well would, or people who wanted something from you. But I wouldn't, and neither would anyone who actually cared about you."

Hermione thought of Harry, travelling around Romania with no access to Britain's news, and Ron, who was already on thin ice as far as she and her friendship were concerned. Then, inexplicably, her mind jumped to Draco Malfoy; the last time she'd seen him had been when he'd testified against his father in front of the entire Wizengamot. He'd been pale - paler than usual, that is - but put together; she'd been impressed with the way his voice had stayed strong up until he was questioned about her short incarceration at the Manor. He'd visibly faltered, eyes darting guiltily over to where she'd sat with Harry in the stands (Ron had been closer to the front, with his mother. They had both seemed to be enjoying the spectacle that was the Malfoys' fall from grace more than was decent), before he had continued; she tried to give him a supportive smile, but she didn't think he'd seen it. His stare had gone right through her. Since that trial, and his own - where he was pardoned but put on magical probation for a year - no one had seen him; it was assumed that he'd sequestered himself and his mother, whose health was failing, away in the Manor. He had yet to announce whether he was intending to return to Hogwarts for his eighth year or not.

"How will I know the difference between someone who's being decent because they mean it and someone who just wants something?" Her thoughts strayed towards Ron, whose attitude had been deplorable lately, and Malfoy, whose treatment of her while they were in school could have been credited to both her blood status and his father's opinions on the matter. She'd grown up around Gryffindors, and as such hadn't developed the necessary cynicism to know if any future overtures of cordiality would be due to her adopted status or an actual change of heart.

Theo chuckled. "Don't worry, principessa. I would never dare to steer you wrong." His easy, fond use of Blaise's newest nickname for her warmed her heart a bit.

"God! " she blew out in a huff, tugging violently on a curl that had escaped her sloppy bun. "All I want is a quiet school year, for once. No dragons, basilisks, or werewolves need apply. I thought after the war was over, things would be less complicated, not more." She let herself fall sideways, cuddling her head into the crook of Theo's shoulder. "If I do this..." She sighed. "I've always wanted to belong properly, to Wizarding culture. But I feel like I'm betraying my parents by even considering this adoption. They were wonderful people - they tried so hard to accept me and this strange world that they could never be a part of - it just..."

Theo picked up the trailing sentence when it became apparent she wasn't going to. "It just wasn't working out, was it? You couldn't tell them too many things, and they felt like they didn't know who you were growing up to be." She nodded against his shoulder, noiseless tear dripping off the slope of her nose. "It happens. Especially with bright driven Muggleborns. You've touched the supposedly untouchable - it's hard to go back to being an average human after that."

"I never tried very hard to explain," she admitted. "I knew they wouldn't understand why I refused to go to Muggle Uni, so I always steered conversations away from the topic. They always talked about Hogwarts like it was an amusing hobby, but not anything I could expect to get me anywhere in life." She took a deep breath before confiding another secret. "The thing is... I feel most guilty about not feeling guilty at all for Obliviating them. I still love them, but now I can do it without being torn between them and... all of this." She made a vague waving motion, knowing Theo would get it. He was surprisingly in tune with her, for all their years of antagonism. Although, he had always been a quiet Slytherin, refraining from baiting her like most of his classmates without being obvious about it. She had most often encountered him in the library, actually, head bowed over a book. It had made befriending him easier, without that blatant hostility hanging over their every interaction.

"Sometimes," he said thoughtfully, hugging her to his side, "we feel the most guilty for not feeling one thing or another."

"Isn't that the truth," she sighed.

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 **AN2: Please leave some constructive criticism! I don't know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong if no one says anything!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN 1: As always, this hasn't been betad, but I have a pretty good grasp on grammar and syntax, so any issues should be minor and are probably a result of my fingers moving too quickly on the keyboard. :)**

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"I suppose we'd better go inside," Hermione reluctantly muttered after they'd sat for a while.

"Yeah," Theo agreed, standing up and offering her a hand. "We're supposed to start clearing out the dungeons today. I'm sure Snape will already complain about our tardiness."

She snorted ruefully. She had been the one to lead the Healers to his body in the Shack; meeting him after his recovery had been a nerve-wracking experience. He had seemed like a completely different man, lying in a bed at St. Mungo's and thanking her in a quiet, hoarse baritone. She hadn't known what to do with a non-vitriolic Snape.

Luckily, he hadn't lost any of his exacting expectations; as such, the sections of the castle whose repair he had directly overseen were some of the most immaculate. It reassured Hermione, knowing there was one professor who would treat her like they did any other student, rather than a war heroine or a tragic orphan. What she had done to her parents wasn't common knowledge, so far, but she'd had to tell some of the professors when she asked for leave to stay at the school over the reconstruction period.

Still. The first time he'd actually praised her work, she'd walked around with a dopey grin for the rest of the day. Six years of trying, and all it had taken was a war and a near-death experience to earn the approval of the only teacher she'd ever felt inadequate around.

"You know," she began as they walked up to the castle, "I wouldn't mind apprenticing for a Potions Mastery with Professor Snape."

Theo didn't look surprised. "You might be able to make that a condition of the adoption contract - Snape instead of Cambridge. He's a war hero too, after all; Madame Greengrass would be daft to refuse. Of course," he added slyly, "that's assuming you decide to accept the contract, and that he'd accept you as his apprentice."

Knowing her face showed her conflict, she admitted, "I want to. My first impulse is to say yes. But it's a big decision. And I'm dreading even the idea of the press circus if it became public knowledge."

"You could put off the Ministry documents until after school started up again," he told her as they reached the massive front doors. "The ritual itself can be done without any witnesses from the Ministry at all. You should write to Madame Greengrass, explain your reservations."

"That's not a bad idea," she agreed, already drafting a letter in her head.

Anything else she might have said was interrupted by Professor Snape's exit from the Great Hall into the corridor where they were walking. He had abandoned his heavy black robes after his recovery, making his new attire a simple white Oxford and black trousers. This, coupled with the color his skin had obtained after spending the last week repairing the greenhouses, made him look much healthier than he had during Hermione's entire school career; even his disposition seemed less sour - although Hermione still attributed that to his no longer being required to play the part of faithful Death Eater.

"You two are very nearly late," he observed in a much less caustic tone than they had spent six years becoming accustomed to.

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione chirped with a bright smile. "I was having an emotional crisis and needed my gay best friend to comfort me." She wrapped herself around Theo's arm, playing the distressed schoolgirl with obnoxious obviousness. It was an odd new sort of relationship she and the professor had, where she could tease him and he wouldn't fly into a rage or deduct points or assume she was mocking him; she found she liked it - she was on good terms with the rest of her teachers, had friendly relationships with them, and to be able to add Snape to the list of professors she could consider friends made her feel accomplished in the way a high grade never had.

Professor Snape looked down his nose at her for a long moment before snorting and rolling his eyes. "Spare me the histrionics, Granger. It is entirely too early in the morning for your cheery brand of sarcasm."

"Yes, Professor," she agreed, affecting a much more solemn demeanor for a few seconds. Then she smiled again, albeit with less wattage. "So, what are we doing today? Rubble cleanup or actual reconstruction?"

"Both, simultaneously. Those more ... talented in Transfiguration and Charms will be with me in the lower section." He sent a pointed look sweeping between the two of them. "Others less endowed with such skills are still under Pomona's purview as she begins replanting the greenhouses today."

Theo snickered and muttered, "At least we won't have to deal with Weasley today."

Snape heard this comment and agreed with a sneered, "Indeed. Now come along; there is damage to the foundations of the castle that I am not satisfied was properly repaired the first time the crews came through." He didn't say that the portions of the dungeons which housed Slytherins had not been the top priority of the repair crews.

He didn't have to.

* * *

After they'd inspected every lodestone to Snape's exacting standards, they moved on to other damaged sections in the lowermost areas of the castle. Even though all of the work they were doing was accomplished with magic, by the time lunch rolled around they were all exhausted - Professor Snape, especially, looked wan and drained.

"You go ahead, Theo," nodded Hermione when it seemed like he'd stay behind with her and the flagging professor. "I've just got a few questions for Professor Snape about the charms we've been doing today." Theo rolled his eyes but assumed she was planning to pester the man about an apprenticeship while he was vulnerable (it was what he would have done), and cheerfully left her to it. He was hungry and he hadn't seen his boyfriend this morning - Blaise didn't believe in waking up early enough to eat breakfast.

Once he was out of sight, she turned to the unusually silent professor, only to find him leaning against the wall, eyes shut and spine slouching in a complete reversal of his usually rigid posture. A moment's scan of the area provided a large chunk of rubble that Hermione confidently Transfigured into a cane. (She would have made a chair, but knew that implying Snape was too feeble to walk would end poorly for her.)

"Here, Professor. You don't look well." Even with her newly developed sense of tact, Hermione tended to eschew Slytherin tactics when someone could benefit from something she'd done - after all, Gryffindors didn't change their stripes just because they started spending time with snakes, no matter what Ronald Weasley seemed intent on believing.

The professor's eyes snapped open, landing almost immediately on the offered cane. The resulting sneer lacked all force; indeed, it seemed to be mostly for show as he silently took the cane from her hand. "I was unaware that you had become a qualified Medi-witch in the twelve hours since I had seen you last, Miss Granger." These days he only called her that when attempting to gain some distance; otherwise, she was just plain Granger - a mark of the odd rapport they were forming.

With a bright smile, she agreed, "Not quite yet, Professor. After all, I'd have to have at least journeyman Potionry status to be able to even qualify for Healer training." And sometimes she could be more Slytherin than people expected.

He opened his mouth, undoubtedly to deliver some scathing retort or other, only to pause and peer at her suspiciously in the gloomy dungeon light. "Granger, that was practically ... cunning of you. How long have you been waiting to pounce on that sort of opening?"

This time her grin was cheeky. "Why, Professor Snape, I've no idea what you're talking about." She batted her eyelashes at him innocently - something she would never have imagined herself doing before these last few summer months had changed her perspectives on many things. "I was just making conversation."

"I'm sure," he responded in a dry tone. With a slightly irritated harrumph, he pointed down the corridor with the tip of the cane. "I shall think about it. Now get out of my sight. I'm certain my star pupils have more Slytherin wisdom to impart with you than they do sense to be wary."

Her answering laugh echoed in the dreary dungeon halls. "Maybe it's me who is corrupting them, sir. After all, lions have teeth as well," she retorted as she walked away.

"Perhaps," he agreed, too quiet for her to hear, as he stared after her. "Of course, that might not be such a terrible thing."

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 **AN 2: Please read and review! Your reviews let me know what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right, and what you guys wanna see. If you have an idea, share it! I'm generally only one chapter ahead of whatever I'm posting, so this could practically be a pick-your-own-adventure if you interact with me!**


	5. July 3rd

**AN1: The next few chapters are going to be shorter, as they are a series of letters. I thought about putting all of the letters in one chapter but decided against it because I want to be able to date them and such and idk it just seemed cleaner to keep them separated**

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 _Miss Hermione Granger,_

 _While I understand and respect your reservations, I do feel the benefits of this adoption would far outweigh any negative opinions the news might garner, for both of us. That being said, I would be more than happy to postpone notifying the Ministry until you have settled back into the daily routine of lessons; even with recent changes in policy and staff, I doubt their ability to withhold such a controversial announcement from The Daily Prophet. The gossipmongers at that publication would no doubt be alerted before the ink had dried on the scroll, and I would prefer to shield you from the almost assured backlash for as long as possible. This year promises to be difficult enough without half of Wizarding Britain thinking they have the right to pass judgement upon you for such a private decision as this._

 _As for your request to Apprentice with Severus Snape, I will admit I find myself surprised. Even with his status as a war spy and supposed hero now made public, I would not have thought you would want to spend a further three years under the direct tutelage of a man who, from the reports my daughters have given me, spent the better part of your previous six years at Hogwarts belittling and persecuting you as often as possible. I find that as a mother in my own right, and possibly your mother sometime soon, I worry about the impact further contact with such a tormentor would have on your emotional state of mind, especially as the next year promises to be hard enough on its own without the stigma of a pre-Apprenticeship with a still very much disliked man hanging over you as well._

 _However, you seem like a very strong-willed young woman, and I am sure you have your own reasons and resolves regarding the matter. If you would oblige a worrying old biddy by explaining your motivations in further depth, I would greatly appreciate it. I do apologize if that seems overbearing - I am not trying to overstep my bounds; I am simply hoping to protect you from further hardship, especially after all you have already endured and everything the next year promises to bring._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Madame Penelope Greengrass_

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 **AN2:** **As always, please R &R! I know a lot of you have asked about Draco and when he'll be coming into the picture - this is where I announce that we won't be seeing him until school starts up again, because I'm taking thee first few chapters as time to set up Hermione's characterization and interactions with people around her without being distracted by our resident sad ferret. So, you've gotta wait a bit longer. Sorry guys! *ducks away from rotten vegetables***


	6. July 7th

_Madame Penelope,_

 _(I hope that form of address isn't too informal for you - I just think it's a bit silly to address you as a complete stranger when we're in talks to become family.)_

 _Let me start by thanking you for accepting my reticence when it comes to publicising even more of my life. After the Prophet's recent article about my parents' situation (and I do wish I knew how they ferreted out that piece of gossip gold, as I have their key sleuth under my thumb), I can only imagine what they would have to say about this arrangement. No doubt I would be painted as a power-hungry Muggleborn so ruthless that she completely demolished her Muggle parents' lives in order to pave the way for a magical adoption._

 _Allow me to say that I love my parents, but ... I don't particularly miss them. And I know that's awful. However, I (as seems an unfortunate side-effect of entering an entirely new and foreign culture on my own) had very little in common with them by the time I made the decision to save their lives; they simply couldn't understand that what they perceived as a communication barrier was actually a comprehension barrier - their own willful ignorance of simple magical concepts and terminology that could have made our interactions easier drove me to my wits' end. It was not dissimilar to the Wizarding world's inability to learn the simplest of Muggle terminology. Electricity is not a hard word to learn, for Merlin's sake!_

 _And now I'm ranting, I apologise. I didn't begin this letter to whinge about my Dickensian fortunes or complain about Wizarding culture - I believe you wanted reassurances about Professor Snape and my dedication in regard to an Apprenticeship with him._

 _I want to preface this as being my own opinions and perceptions of our interactions. Theo Nott has told me, repeatedly, that I am too optimistic and forgiving by half; that may be, but it is who I am, and nothing so far has managed to change that. Where the War turned others cold and cynical, I saw examples all around me of the power of basic human kindness and internalised that. I believe everyone has the potential to be a hero, given the proper environment and circumstances. After all, bravery is not the absence of fear, but the decision to continue on despite it. As such, I am inclined to ascribe motivations to the actions of others that are, perhaps, kinder than they deserve. However, as he is a survivor of two wars and two dictatorial masters (I am not blind to Albus Dumbledore's faults, nor do I ascribe to the common practise of whitewashing the wrongdoings of someone after they are dead), I do think Professor Snape deserves far more kindness than I, or anyone else, am capable of giving him. Especially as the man himself is quite prickly and unwilling to accept kindness at face value; I've noticed his habit of assuming any small act must have an ulterior motive or dark side. I suppose that's what being a spy for almost twenty years will do to you._

 _He is a far stronger person than I, for certain._

 _Looking back upon his behaviours both in and out of the classroom with all the wisdom and knowledge (which are two different things) I have gained through distance and circumstance, it is my understanding that almost everything Professor Snape did while teaching at Hogwarts was meant to further cement his position as a spy and loyal Death Eater. From what I have heard, the Death Eaters were paranoid to the extreme and even the smallest slip in character could have had fatal consequences for a man whose loyalty was already in question on a daily basis. Indeed, now that he is freed from such onuses, I have noticed a marked change in his attitudes - and not only towards me, the witch responsible for saving his life, however inadvertently I managed it. Where before he was forced to blatantly favor his Slytherin students, now he is equally strict with all Houses in his expectations for standards of work - and as sparing as his praise is, it is no longer couched in double speak and vitriolic turns of phrase, which I must admit I prefer._

 _Professor Snape is still an exacting teacher, ill-inclined to tolerating shoddy work or lackadaisical attitudes, but that suits me just fine. He is no longer needlessly derisive, and has privately informed that while he was unable to be seen openly favoring a Gryffindor Muggleborn, if he could have he would have offered me private tutoring after my O.W.L. results. As it is, I am satisfied that my extra Transfiguration studies paid off, and am content to further my Potions studies in the same manner now that the war is over, instead of having unrealistic expectations during such tumultuous times. I did not possess the subtlety to keep from compromising Professor Snape my sixth year, so I do not begrudge him this - in fact, I still do not possess such subtlety!_

 _However, apparently (and I am chuckling as I write this) once I outgrew my propensity for textbook learning and applied my critical thinking abilities I became a "much more tolerable interruption to the daily monotony that is teaching."_

 _End quote, as I am sure you could tell._

 _Hopefully this all soothes your maternal conscience. I respect Professor Snape, and I believe he respects my potential if nothing else; Apprenticing under him is a desirable and necessary step for my career goals of becoming a Healer. At the very least, you need not fear for my emotional stability if I Apprentice under him. I'm well aware of who he is, and he and I have developed an amicable battle of wits in the past two months, and I find myself both entertained and educated by his Slytherin approach to things. I enjoy my conversations with him almost as much as the ones I have with Minerva._

 _I hope this letter has served its purpose - I have to go assist Professor Sinistra in repairing the towers, so I'm posting this now before I can babble on any more. The boys always said my brain moves too fast for a normal human._

 _Warm Regards,_

 _Hermione_


End file.
